For the Love of Death

Chapter 1

So, hi. Im Erika, and I hope you enjoy the book and all that jazz. I do want to say that on every sunday I will be releasing a new chapter, well Im gonna try to atleast. Soo ya hope you like it, feel free to leave suggestions and such.

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I could feel it taking me, my eyes glazing over, as I cut into my soft wrist. The sweet taste of agony that lingered so willingly on my wet pink tongue.

It felt so good, that small rush of adrenaline, I couldn't help but love it. . . That feeling that I lived for.
When I was younger, I experienced things, things I thought were terrifying as a small child, but came to love in my 18 years. The feeling of pain, the feeling of death.

Abused to the point of near destruction, beaten to a bloody pulp most nights. As a child, of course it scared me, to have no one, to lie on the floor soaked in my own vital fluid. Crying out, but making not a single sound as my breath stuck to the insides of my throat begging to be free.

That's when I first felt it, that numbness in my body, as my mind went blank. . . It terrified my childish self, the feeling of no control, but the feeling of release was calming now. After so many years of cruel fist clawing and hitting at my adolescent body, I learned to love it, embrace it and be one with it. And now I relied on that feeling, I needed that feeling.

The blood poured over my wrist engulfing it in a thick blanket of red. The color contrasting beautifully with my snow white skin. I bit my lip at the sting, knowing that the after effect would be worth it. I stared at the wound, tranced by the blood that dripped onto the clean, white ceramic of the bathroom sink. The soft pitter-patter cooled my mind, as my breathing slowed and my thoughts became foggy.

My daydreaming was suddenly interrupted by a hard knock, on the pale brown door. I locked the gold knob, panicking to clean my mess.
The blood-loss had caused a terrible head rush and my head pounded, as I pushed a wash cloth hard against my wrist. In one swift, dizzy turn I dropped to my knees, hitting my head against the side of the cold, hard bath.

I could feel it again, as I laid half conscious on the bathroom floor. . . I could hear shouts, they sounded far off and incognizable. My head lulled to one side as the darkness filled my mind, and I felt the reassuring hug from the pain I so desired, that I loved with all my heart.

I woke to the sound of beeping, the repetitive, annoying blare of the hospital machines that surrounded me. I rubbed my hands hard against my eyes, feeling the roughness of the gauze wrapped around my sore, stitched wrist. I looked around, my body tense in my paper thin hospital robe. I sat up slowly, pressing the button to signal the nurse to my side.

My step parents had brought me, I knew that much, but I had a gut feeling they hadn't waited around to see if Id wake, or come back to get me when I had. I looked at the countless other scars that littered my wrists, remembering all the other times Id been taken to the hospital, and the ridiculous excuses my step parents made for my injuries.

The nurse plucked me away from my thoughts placing a thin hand on my shoulder.

" darling you should lay back down ," she said with a sympathetic smile.

" um, no Im ok, I think, but do you know when Ill be able to leave?"
She was avoiding my eyes, as she flipped through some papers and checked that all the machines were working properly,"Sweetie, you wont be able to leave tell someone comes to
pick you up."

I hung my head, taking in deep breaths, I looked back up at her my voice getting caught in my throat, as I tried to choke out the words, " I. . . no. . . No ones coming for me."